The Forgotten Memories Series
by xNeariax
Summary: Spike/Darla. Flashbacks and scenes that Joss forgot to show us. A series of based-on-each-other Oneshots.
1. To Revere A Queen

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing; Joss is God, etc..

**Spoiler:** everything concerning Spike/Dru/Angelus/Darla is fair game.

**A/N: **I originally started this little One-Shot Series back in 2007/2008 and somehow never went further than the 1st three chapters. Shouldn't be a problem though since the pieces are in fact based on each other, but all completed in themselves; only chapter 2 & 3 are coherent. Again this is a translation from my german original writing. However, I might actually pick this up again at some point seeing that I always planned to and have actually already written some chapters for later on..

**Dedicated to** Natasa again, because she motivated me to do this and b/c her reaction to the last dedication was so cute. ;D

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**I. To Revere A Queen**

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London, England – 1880

He felt light-headed and strange; disoriented and recovered at the same time. As if he'd just endured the best sleep of his lifetime. It was bemusing like nothing he had ever experienced and yet not bad in a classical sense.

Anyway, it didn't matter. There were more urgent questions then the one about his condition now. For example, where he was. Or what had happened last night.

The last thing he remembered clearly, was that young woman who'd addressed him after he nearly bumped into her on the streets. Quite a presentable lady, that she was. She'd drawn him into a conversation, much to his surprise, and then… He wasn't exactly sure. Didn't she kiss him at some point? But then, maybe that had only been his imagination.

Well, he couldn't remember, so he postponed the thought for now and instead turned his attention to the other question at hand by, somewhat hesitantly, opening his eyes. After all, who knew if he really wanted to see what he was about to look at?

And indeed, what came to sight actually astonished him, though not in the way he'd thought of.

It was out of question that he was in a bedroom; a pompous master bedroom no less. Lying on his back he recognized the navy blue velvet of a canopy on a baroque four-poster bed above and oversoft down beneath him. The remaining room was in no way less striking. Costly wood panelling adorned the light-coloured walls; thick rugs displayed themselves on the matching wooden floorboards and sparsely placed, exclusive furniture emblazoned the space.

"William. So you awoke. Delightful."

The high, clear voice suddenly emerging from a far corner of the room was enough to have him bold upright in bed. Hectically his eyes scanned the surrounding; leaving him quite amazed at what came to sight.

A young lady was seated on one of the costly, red velvet coated armchairs, casually gazing in his general direction. The open fireplace to her right offered just enough light for her eyes to have wandered over the pages of the leader-clad book she was still holding. She was delicate and in her emerald green eyes an indefinably blaze was noticeable; her intricate dress reminded him of a noble woman.

It was an undeniable truth, for William that is, that all the pomp he had admired moments earlier paled in comparison to the beauty and elegance; the dignity radiating of this woman.

"Where am I?" His voice carried a thick British accent that immediately grew to her.

She closed the book and rose, but her eyes remained on it, lazily grazing the authors name engraved in the leather, her fingers following.  
"The world must actually be in change when a woman is allowed to share her wonderful thoughts and earn the proper respect. I think I would like to meet this Mary, creator of a world of nightmares."

A small smile tugged at her lips during her musings and finally she put down the book and strolled over to the bed.  
"You're home, kiddo." Her pale, enigmatic smile seemed decent enough. "Do you remember last night, William? You've died.. and you were born."

"You're not her." Stating the obvious like that made him feel like an idiot, but as much as he tried nothing else came to mind.

"No, I'm not. Drusilla is still asleep. They're sleeping together.. She will be here soon enough though - to care for you."

He was surprised by the hard edge to her voice he wouldn't have thought her to be capable of. Soon enough he would find out, that in this new world of his, appearance was meaningless. In this very moment on the other hand his memory remained his foremost concern.

Slowly the pictures crept back into his mind. "Drusilla .. She bit me, and I drank her blood. There was a man with her, smiling as I died."

She almost purred. "Yes, my Angelus." Then her voice changed again, a busy note to it now. "Do you understand what we are?"

It took him a moment to process. "Can you tell me?"

"You are not who you once were any more, William. The love in your heart remains the same. The hatred. The bitterness. The lust. Deeper and changed into row strength. We are above the living. They cower under our feet and we feed on their fear and humanity; invigorated by every single drop of blood. And you can feel it, don't you? This craving… Your heart, not beating any more. The dispensability of breathe. The way in which all your senses sharpen and let you notice all of a sudden all the things you never paid attention to."

She was observing, not asking – and she was right. Even though he sensed it only in this very moment.

Suddenly he was aware. Of the subtle scent of her skin, bringing a delicate mixture of jasmine and honey to mind.; the muffled sounds of the night, pouring in from the outside, even though all the windows were closed. He knew she had probably detected it by the look on his face already and yet he nodded slowly.

Once more she rewarded him with an almost innocent smile, though at this point he already suspected this impression of her to be a deceiving one.

"And who are you, luv?" He sounded much calmer now. Funny, when what he just heard should have probably had an opposing effect on him.

Her soft laughter interrupted his train of thought. "Oh, impolite me. My name is Darla. I sired Angelus, just as he did with Drusilla.. and now here you are, William."

She lowered herself down at the end of the bed, a faint smile crossing her lips when he backed away slightly. _  
Darla_. He pondered on it. Yes, it suited her. "They talked about you."

He couldn't tell how much time had passed since his awakening; it probably didn't matter anyway. If he understood everything she'd told him correctly, than time was clearly the one thing he did have now.

"Yes, I know.. behind my back. Not much for loyalty, are they?" Her eyebrow raised every so slightly at the question.

William however missed out on it; his ocean blue eyes occupied with admiringly roaming over her. Her chest only sparsely covered by the light blue silk of her dress with it's white lace clinging to the neckline; her golden hair falling onto her shoulders in gentle waves.. "You don't seem so mean to me. More like absolute perfection."

"You're very sweet, William. It really is a pity that you're so young and all claims lie with Dru." Something like regret clouded her voice and she sighed ever so silently.

Astonishment and confusion stole themselves into Williams features. "Pardon me? If at all, I was only lookin' for some.. enjoyable company."

"Oh, you're much more than that now. You belong to each other, William. Just like Angelus belongs with me. Drusilla and you, you're connected now. And there's love between you, even though Angelus would argue with me on that, I know there is. Dru sired you, because she wanted you to belong to her – and I will be here to break Angelus' fall when she no longer wants to play with him."

He listened to her words carefully, unconsciously moving closer and she lay a hand on his cheek; tracing her fingers over his pale skin gently. An instant later he felt a pang, short and bittersweet and a few lonely drops of blood tripping from where her fingernail had sliced the soft tissue. "William, the Bloody." Her voice flattered and her fingertips traced the small track on his cheek. "How charming you are. So young.."

His fingers played with her blonde curls while he leaned closer and captured her lips with his own. He kissed her, simply because he wanted to. She pulled back though – eyes narrowed, lips slightly parted. "What are you doing? Don't!"

"Why not, luv?" He just gazed at her blankly. "You're a woman, I'm a man .. and anyway, isn't it all the same with this whole vampire-thing?"

"No. You don't belong to me. Intervening so early would be a mistake." An almost inaudible sigh left William's lips, but he let go of her nevertheless and leaned back onto the cushions. "Fine. So what happens now, luv?"

"You learn – and your first lesson is that in this mansion I am queen.", she explained not without the proper amount of pride chiming in her voice and a confident smile gracing her lips. At first his eyebrow wandered up in surprise and slight confusion, but then a smirk came to his lips. He already had an idea. "Whether Dru would like me blonde? I think, I'll dye it for you."

Darla's smile widened contentedly. The thought of sharing this little secret with him clearly to her liking.  
"If that's the way in which you want to honour me, I support the idea."

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**The End  
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	2. To Allay A Lady

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing; Joss is God, etc..

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**II. ****To Allay A Lady**

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Dublin, Ireland – Autumn 1881

Enough was enough. This time he had clearly crossed the line. She had brought him into being! Did he really think he could get away with everything? That she would keep putting up with this? Why, no – not even for him, Angelus. In fact he knew that all too well. He just seemed to.. forget about it from time to time. Not that it made a difference.

Three nights. Three full nights and days he was roving about with Dru now. This widely exceeded the limit of her tolerance. Darla was seething with anger; something she rarely allowed herself and even then only when she was sure to be alone. Today however she'd rampaged through half of the mansion when she realized sunrise was nearing and those two obviously had no intention of getting back any time soon.

While the sun started it's daily cycle she grasped the first vase in reach, smashing it into the nearest wall in a freshly approaching wave of rage.

It missed Spike - who just happened to return from his hunt in this very moment - by millimetres; making him freeze on the spot, indeed slightly shocked by the unexpected flying object and the mess presenting itself to him when his eyes scanned the entrance hall. By the time he had left earlier the huge room had been neatly organized; every exquisite piece of furniture at its very own place, just as the costly vases and paintings. Right in this second though total chaos reigned the place.

A mixture of glass shards and fragments from what Spike believed had once been a mahogany chair now decorated the dark marble floor; a pretty little side-table had changed its position much to its disadvantage and the rest of the room didn't exactly remind one of the former state of order either.

There was no need to ask what had brought forth this furious outbreak. After all, he himself had left mere hours ago because he had to blow some steam of, so he wouldn't eventually do exactly what the lady of the house obviously had. Granted, the Scotch might have had a hand in it as well; not the alcohol itself, of course, but the sheer act of solemnly downing a few glasses did the trick sometimes. Anyway, her reaction surprised him nevertheless. Spike couldn't remember having ever seen her so angry, not to mention displaying it so plainly when normally she was oh so roofed to keep her self restrained. Well, looked like everyone psyched out at some point.

Even though the young vampire felt with her, he wasn't quite sure how to react to this. The last thing he wanted – and that he was rather sure of – was to make himself a target for her fury. The possible outcome of such a stupid mistake was simply bound to be unhealthy. Yet in the end he decided against leaving her alone with her hurt pride and – as he assumed – her disappointment as well. One reason being that he knew just to well what she was going through, the other one that he much preferred the thought of still having a house to come back to by the end of today.

"Should be more careful, luv. That was bloody close." Despite the serious situation his words were accompanied by a wink and a lopsided grin; a simple attempt at shifting her attention towards him. Well, it worked.. just not quite the way Spike had hoped it would.

"Oh, leave me alone! What do you even do here? Do I appear to you as if a 'nice little chat' is what I have in mind right now?" she hissed at him, even though – for once – he really was the last person responsible for the mess.

"Sorry to disappoint, luv, as coincidence has it I live here as well.. but yeah, I can see what you have on your mind." he simply observed, gesturing vaguely towards the chaos around them during the last part. "Did it help?"

For a beat she just gazed at him, seemingly irritated by either his question or his nerve to ask her something like that. Then, however, she lowered herself down onto one of the reaming armchairs, shrugging her shoulders in an almost ungainly manner. "No."

He gave an understanding nod, dropping down in the seat opposite hers. "Thought as much." he noticed in a faint voice "Tattered that boring little town a few miles down - arrant waste of time."

Now it was her turn to be surprised as she didn't expect such plain honesty. For a while she just looked at him.

"At least you don't have to clean up by yourself." she then suddenly stated so dryly that it prompted a soft laugh from him in spite of everything else.

"Aw, rubbish. Just leave it - I'll cope." he joked, pulling the smallest of smiles from her. "Nah, seriously.. at least that bloody ignorant might come to see some sense then." It was a simple musing, more to himself than her, his mind back on the original topic of conversation. "Doesn't even realize what he has, the basket. I mean, earnestly, look at you."

The meaning of what he had just said only dawned on him when Darla raised her eyebrow in surprise for the second time in just minutes. _Need to cut down on the Scotch, clearly _came to his mind, the little and completely vain fact that alcohol had absolutely no impact on him any more completely escaping him for the moment, just because he really couldn't think of another reason for his bold honesty. Of course, it wasn't as if he'd never spoken about her like that, but since then he'd learned a lot about life as a vampire – and in his right mind he clearly wasn't suicidal enough to even think in that direction aloud. Be that as it may, he had now and all he really hoped for was that those words would never leave this room or he'd most likely be a dead vampire.

During Spike's silent pondering Darla had done nothing then survey him in silence and slowly he was starting to see another outbreak of fury coming – this time about him being out of his mind and them having had this conversation. It never did come though. On the contrary, instead of the lecture he had expected all he received from her was a bewildering smile, slowly stealing itself onto her lips.

"So, I take it.. **you **still fancy me, William?"

This was about the last question on earth he had expected – at least in this.. content?! hoping?! tone of voice. For a moment he considered his options, only to came to the conclusion that it was already too late now anyway, meaning it probably made no difference what he answered – well, for her ego maybe, and that had suffered enough already he thought, so...

"That a serious question? Who wouldn't fancy you, luv."

In spite of what he had thought her smile instantly vanished.  
"Angelus, for example. Or he wouldn't prefer 'playing' with Dru."

The name being mentioned alone had Spike rolling his eyes.  
"What d' you expect? He's a stupid idiot. Sorry, princess, but you could do much better."

"In **that **you're completely right." she agreed and an undefinable smirk came to her lips...

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**To be continued in Chapter 3**


	3. To Silence A Poet

**Disclaimer: **Same as always.. nothing belongs to me, yadda yadda.

**A/N: **I do realize this is a rather short chapter, but I wanted it to stand alone anyway - no, not only for the title ;) - please cope with me.

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**I****II. To Silence A Poet**

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Dublin, Ireland – Autumn 1881

"_In __**that **__you're completely right." she agreed and an undefinable smirk came to her lips.._.

It almost seemed as if an idea that had never before occurred to her suddenly entered her mind.

When she got up and strolled over to him in her usual elegant manner, he was to amazed to say or do anything. He wasn't sure what she had in mind, but a part of him was rather eager to find out.

"Darla, what..?"

Spike didn't get any further than this, because when this vampire-lady - who should have been so much above him according to everything he'd been taught in the last year – took a seat right on his lap, getting quite comfy by the looks – and feels – of it speech left him in tandem with all coherent thought.

"Oh, come one, William.. don't tell me you never thought about it.. dreamed about it." Her delicate voice was only a low whisper now; a soft tune barely audible to any human being, but hard to miss for his sensitive senses. "I know you have." It didn't help him a bit that her fingertips were currently drawing lazy patterns across his chest, making him swallow.

Of course he had thought about it – from time to time – but he had also been sure that this would be all there was, or would ever be, to it. He'd realised that after his first few days as a vampire already and even more clearly when he'd gotten to know her better. It had been a nice fantasy, nothing more. Her pride alone would be enough to keep her from coming near the freshling, at least in that way, and her weird obsession with Angelus would do the rest, that he'd been absolutely certain of. He still was in a way. What happened right now was completely impossible. Or at least extremely improbable.

That it was obviously happening anyway was hardly deniable when her soft lips came to lightly touch his. And for a moment, he couldn't help closing his eyes and savour the feelings actually kissing her evoked in him.

Then he got a grasp on the shattered remains of his self-control. From there it was but a small step to pulling back slightly, even though he wasn't entirely sure that it was actually what he wanted to do. "Wait - one second, luv - we can't actually ..."

Her lacking expression cut him short. "Why not?" she asked simply, making it sound as if the fact that she was currently seducing him was the most natural thing in the world. The fact that she occupied her time waiting for an answer with leaving a trail of butterfly kisses on his neck didn't exactly proof helpful in concentrating on his objections – or in not just forgetting about them completely.

"'Cause.." _Yes, William? _Very funny, now his own mind joined in taunting him. "Cause.. well, you yourself explained to me why not_._" _Fail._ Then however, a solid reason came to his mind. "... an' because he will **totally **freak when he finds out – **they **will."

To his utter and continuing astonishment Darla's answer consisted mostly of a careless shrug of her shoulders and an amused smile grazing her lips. "Well, **I **sure won't tell them.."

It was crystal clear that with that this discussion was over in her eyes and she turned their attention back to more.. pleasurable things.

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**The End** (at least for now).

**A/N 2:** As I said, I might still continue this little series over time (always planned on doing so), but I won't promise anything. However, there is another two chapters already written that I wanted to put in at a later point of the series, so if I notice I won't write something in between anymore those will still be coming up.


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